Canine et Lupus: a SiriusRemus love story
by melodrome
Summary: A series of 100 moments in Sirius Black and Remus Lupin's relationship. First chapter: Remus is quietly jealous, so Sirius, ever charming, coaxes him to quit worrying. Warnings: sexual innuendo, implied sex, slash.
1. Prompt 26: Teammates

**A/N: **If you're familiar with my already-in-progress Sweetie Ficlet endeavor, this is similar but separate. I'm part of a fanfiction writing community on LiveJournal called fanfic100 (link to be posted on profile momentarily) where we pick our own topics and write 100 fanfiction tidbits on that topic. I chose a Remus/Sirius slash pairing. I rarely if ever extend outside of canon, and I really never thought I'd ever write slash, but I'm having a lot of fun with it so I thought I'd share with y'all. It'll be an interesting experiment, anyway. :)

The 100 chapters in this fic will feature a same-sex partnership. If you are not comfortable with it, please move along without flaming. Don't read it if it's going to make you angry.

Thanks for reading. Reviews are always welcome.

* * *

_November, 1977_

"Hello Mooooony," Sirius crooned as he stomped into the dormitory.

"Hello. How was Quidditch."

Remus was mad. Sirius could tell because he was talking in clipped phrases and was staring at the same point on the book.

"Same as ever. Fast. Ridiculous. Fantastic. How was… erm…" Sirius tilted his head sideways as he read the cover of the book. "_The Many Uses of Rat Feces in Potions, Charms, and Divination_?" He made a face.

"Fine!" Remus said, with an air of someone commenting on what the weather was like last weekend. "Just fine."

"Good!" Sirius said in plain imitation of Remus' tone. "Jolly good."

Remus closed his book with a snap and glared at Sirius with unwarranted contempt. "Is there something you want?"

Mischief twitched at the corner of Sirius' mouth. "Apart from you, you mean?" He bit his lip and gave Remus the once-over. He was never very good at taking conflict seriously.

Despite himself, Remus' lips twitched, then were tightened immediately against one another as Remus looked away and crossed his arms. "Right funny way of showing it."

Sirius resisted the temptation to roll his eyes and opted instead for his best puppy dog expression as he crawled onto Remus' four-poster. "Apparently I've done something wrong," he said soberly. "I don't know what it is, but I think if I act really cute –" and he flopped onto his back beside Remus and held his hands and feet in the air like paws – "perhaps I'll make you laugh, or at least annoy you enough to tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done."

Remus looked down disdainfully at Sirius, smirked at his wide eyes and innocent stare, and relaxed. "Nevermind, Pads. I'm overreacting."

"No, something's got Moony's knickers in a twist, and it is my job to untwist them."

"Is it?"

"It is."

"Says who?"

"Says Sirius Black, and he is the absolute spitting image of truth and rationality."

Remus finally gave a burst of laughter, and Sirius jumped onto his knees on the bed, grinning. "Yay! Got you laughing! Now let's lay it out."

It was Remus' turn to look mischievous. "Now just what are you suggesting, Mr Truth and Rationality?"

Sirius clicked his tongue. "Moony, you dirty boy. I meant your beef. Not_ that_ beef," he had to clarify again, although the grin spreading across his face showed that he might not be kidding anymore if he made another such comment. He was trying to be serious! He was talking to Moony, after all; the only other thing Moony responded better to than seriousness would cause a rather significant tangent in the conversation. "What are you in a tiff about?"

Remus smiled in earnest now as he shook his head. "I'm really quite serious, Padfoot, it's nothing. Forget it."

"Nope. This situation is like that time when I insisted on eating a whole chocolate cake and wanted to stop halfway and you scold me for it. 'Now that you've started, you've got to finish'." He imitated Remus' voice with surprising accuracy. Sirius' eyes started to twinkle, and Remus knew what he was going to do before he did it. "Or it's like when I go like this –"

Remus slapped the hand away, smiling. Sirius kept grinning and began bouncing on his knees while Moony thought. Finally, the werewolf looked up. "There's nothing between you and J…" he hesitated. "Janie Trump. Is there?" he asked quietly.

Sirius blinked heavily. "Me and Janie? No! Why? No!"

"Okay," Remus said immediately, pursing his lips.

"Janie's blonde! And… a girl! I don't like blonde girls!"

"You like some girls," Remus reminded him sheepishly.

"Yeah, but I picked you over all of them. And you have brown hair. If _Janie _had brown hair, it might be a different story…"

"Har har," Remus said slowly, smiling as he tossed a pillow at Sirius. Sirius caught the pillow with his excellent reflexes and put it down on the bed. He was now eyeing Remus with a different, more sincere expression.

"Who do you really want to ask me about?" he asked quietly.

Remus pursed his lips at his inability to fool Sirius. "It's stupid," Remus reminded him.

"For the last time, Moony, neither of us is getting any nookie until your knickers are untwisted, so let's –"

"James," Remus said quickly. Sirius looked around at the dorm entrance, but there was no one there.

"He's still downstairs, trying to chat up Lily, no doubt –" But Padfoot stopped in the middle of his sentence as he caught sight of Remus' expression. "Oh, Remus, no," he said with more seriousness than he'd managed through the whole conversation. "No, there's nothing between me and Prongs."

"I know," he said sullenly, hugging the pillow he'd thrown at Sirius a minute ago. "It's obvious that there isn't when you're not on the Quidditch pitch, but… when you're on your broomsticks, all passion in the heat of the game, totally in sync with one another…"

Sirius chuckled, but the sound was hollow. "When you describe it like that, Lupin, you might _force _me to have feelings for James." Sirius sighed and sat cross-legged on the bed, taking Remus' hand between his. "Prongs is my best friend. He is my brother. We understand each other. Well… not entirely. I still don't understand why he won't give up on that redhead, and he doesn't know about you and me… at least not that I know of…" Sirius' brow was stitched in thought. "Anyway, yeah, we have a sync thing going on, but I understand him enough that I'd _never _have feelings for him. Merlin, he's like me, only with a softer heart and a kinder family." He squeezed Moony's hand. "You, I don't get. You're a ruddy mystery. You're wild and you're complacent, you're an intellectual and you are primal. And I like that. I like a challenge. You drive me nuts because I don't get you. James doesn't drive me nuts. He'll never drive me nuts. In fact, he'll never have anything to do with my nuts. So stop worrying."

Remus smiled at Sirius' words, but obviously wasn't convinced. "You don't see the two of you on the Quidditch pitch…" Remus began, trailing off into a mutter. Sirius caught the words 'passion' and 'mates'.

"Yeah, Moony, _team_mates," Sirius clarified. "You don't play Quidditch, so it's tough to explain to you, but I promise, everything that happens on the field stays on the field. There's nothing any more erotic about me playing Quidditch with your mother than there is of me playing with Prongs." Sirius winced. "Okay, so it's a _little _more erotic than that, but I think you'll forgive me for my exceedingly platonic feelings toward your mother."

Now Remus laughed loudly and rolled suddenly over, tackling Sirius and holding him against the wall behind the four-poster. "How long do you suppose James is going to take with Lily?" Remus asked quietly.

"I dunno," Sirius replied. "It won't be long before she blows him off again –"

"And Peter?"

"Somewhere… doing something… I bet…" Sirius was looking at Remus' lips and it was clear he wasn't thinking about Peter.

Remus shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll have to take our chances then," and crushed his lips against Sirius', leaning into him.

Sirius broke away. "Blimey, I should reiterate my non-romantic feelings for James more often," he breathed, and the pair explored further into the issue of Remus' beef.


	2. Prompt 10: Years

_June, 1994_

Even after thirteen years, Remus Lupin still had this astounding ability to make Sirius' stomach drop through the floor when he walked into a room.

He was older now – to be expected after so long, he supposed – but in some ways he looked older than Sirius did, and Sirius was aware that Azkaban had made him look fifty at least. Remus' face, still boyish when they had last seen each other, was now heavily lined, particularly around the eyes. His hair had many greys, already at age 34. But even if he didn't have the cat clutching at his chest for him, Sirius imagined the sensation would be present regardless.

Remus' eyes finally flickered to where Sirius was lying on the floor. He clenched his wand tighter, then looked away quickly, apparently disgusted. Sirius' stomach dropped away, along with the last of his hope. He should have expected this sort of reunion. In fact, it was a wonder Remus hadn't already killed him. In his position, Sirius decided, the deed would have long since been done. Or maybe Remus wanted Harry to do it after all; wouldn't that be true justice?

"Expelliarmus!" Remus shouted suddenly, and Harry and the girl lost the wands they were holding. Then, slowly and deliberately, Remus walked toward Sirius and forced himself to regard him with a steady gaze.

And with a quiver in his chin and a waver in his voice, Remus asked, "Where is he, Sirius?"

Disbelieving, Sirius studied Remus' face. Remus' blue eyes were not filled with the disgust with Sirius he had initially seen; instead, the disgust was self-directed, mixed with guilt and grief. Sirius continued to stare into his eyes, trying desperately to determine if Remus had figured it out, if he meant what Sirius thought he meant. So Sirius raised a hand and pointed at the red-haired boy who was surely related to the Weasleys, refusing to break Remus' gaze.

Remus, too, seemed reluctant to break eye contact. "But then…" he began, and used that logical brain that Sirius had once loved so desperately to figure out that Sirius had switched, that he _hadn't _betrayed Lily and James, not intentionally at least. "Unless you switched… without telling me?" Remus finished.

Sirius heard a note of desperation in his voice, and saw another in his eyes. Wanting Remus to believe him even more than Remus did, Sirius nodded unblinkingly, swallowing thickly. _Come on, Remus,_ he pled with him silently. _You know me. You know I would have never, ever betrayed James…_

As Remus lowered his wand and helped Sirius to his feet, he momentarily forgot entirely his fury and his desire for vengeance against Peter. Love flooded his veins for the first time since Azkaban as he embraced Remus. No matter that Sirius looked like he'd spent thirteen years in complete destitution (and, to be frank, he had), Remus was not disgusted. This gesture meant a great deal more than anything else had for the last dozen years.

Sirius was vaguely aware of Harry shouting, and Remus turned away from the embrace, rather against Sirius' preference. With the loss of Remus' contact, his fury returned; his arm dropped away from Remus' shoulder, and he returned to sulking while Remus tried to quell the outraged teenagers.

As the night carried on, Remus shrugged off Sirius' angry outbursts as though they were perfectly characteristic when they most certainly were not, because Remus understood. Remus always understood. He kept Sirius in check when his passions got the best of him; he became forceful when Sirius was distressed. He was polite where Sirius was savage. Just as it was so many years ago, they complimented each other perfectly. Even as they scrapped later, as dog and wolf, Sirius could not help but enjoy himself to some extent as he kept Remus in check, just as Remus had done for him with Pettigrew hours ago.

Just like the good old days.

In the days that followed, Sirius in hiding with Buckbeak, he tried to start a letter expressing everything he hadn't said upon their reunion. He didn't know how to catch up after so many years, after so much time and space between them. Finally, he realized with a smile, he was going about this all wrong. He leaned over the parchment and wrote a single line:

_It was good to see you again, Moony._

And Remus' reply told Sirius that he understood entirely, as he always did:

_It was good to see you too, Padfoot._


	3. Prompt 85: She

_March, 1996_

"So nothing happening down in the Department of Mysteries?" Remus asked Tonks as he handed her a cup of tea.

"Same as ever – no sight of anyone," she confirmed, then clucked her tongue as she curled up in the chair in front of the fire at Grimmauld Place. "I still can't believe that Snape thinks Harry's intentionally letting You-Know-Who into his head. Hey!" she exclaimed suddenly, spilling hot tea all over her robes. She winced and cleaned herself up immediately. "You don't think that dreadful woman is making it easier for –"

Remus laughed in response. "Ah, Tonks. Umbridge is evil, but if she has ever even considered that You-Know-Who is back, I'm a hippogriff."

She smiled. "A werewolf and a hippogriff. How exotic."

His eyes darkened as he looked at her. She understood her mistake immediately. "Ah, no, Remus. Of course it isn't…" She looked nervously at him, but he stared only into the fire. "I didn't mean…"

"You meant, Tonks."

"No, I didn't. I know how difficult it is for you –"

"How could you possibly?"

Remus saw her purse her lips out of the corner of his eye and knew she was truly sorry, but he was resilient. "I… I can't, you're right, but I… I'd _like _to, I mean, if you'd just let me in…"

"You don't want in, Nymphadora, trust me."

He knew he'd struck a nerve by using her full name. She cleared her throat, and the softness in her voice came out slightly harder than usual. "I _do _want in."

"I find myself feeling suddenly very tired, Tonks. Forgive me if I show you to the door."

She set her jaw and put her mug down on the table. "Don't bother, I'll show myself out," she said coldly. Remus saw her hair change from bubblegum pink to a plain brown as she swept around the corner and left the house.

"She likes you," Sirius informed him as he sauntered into the room, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

Remus grunted and returned his gaze to the fire. Sirius began rocking back and forth on his feet.

"What is she, like, twenty?"

"She's twenty-three," Remus clarified hotly.

Sirius gave what Remus called the Azkaban chuckle. It was deep and resonating; the adult version of his old giggle which developed after thirteen years in prison. It sounded profoundly evil. Remus shuddered. "_You_ like _her_," Sirius informed Remus.

"Thank you for that tidbit."

"Why, Moony. That wasn't a vehement denial!"

Remus said nothing.

Sirius continued rocking back and forth. "You want to _snog_ her."

"What?"

Sirius' grin widened. "You want to _shag _her."

"Padfoot, are we twelve?"

"No, but _she _basically is."

"Good lord! Shut up!"

"The good lord isn't in at the moment, but Sirius will be happy to take your call. You _love _her–"

Remus glared. "And you use taunting as a defense mechanism. Let's discuss what's on your mind, shall we?"

At this, Sirius fell silent. He looked at Remus for a second, then conjured himself and Remus a glass of amber liquid and sat down in the chair Tonks had just vacated. "Why are you turning her away so harshly?" he asked quietly, and Remus realized he was now being entirely serious about having a conversation.

Remus sighed and took a sip of the drink gratefully, looking pensive. "I would destroy her," he stated with finality.

Sirius coughed and hastened to swallow the firewhisky. "What shit is this?" he choked out.

"No, I'm quite serious." He paused automatically, expecting Padfoot to remind him that, no, _I'm_ quite Sirius, and _you're_ quite Remus, but that's rather beside the point; but as a tribute to how different Sirius was lately, he remained silent. Remus shifted his position and coughed to excuse the pause, then continued. "I'm sure you heard her just now. She has absolutely no comprehension of what werewolfishness entails. She thinks it's _exotic_, for pity's sake. It's like she… she has a werewolf fetish or something."

Sirius cocked an eyebrow as he brought the glass up to his mouth. "She wouldn't be the first one."

Remus smirked. "This is different. You saw me as a werewolf plenty of times before we took up. With her, it's distant, and she has proven time and time again that she is not willing to take it as seriously as it needs to be taken. You understand that the werewolf is part of who I am. She perceives it as a little character flaw that can be overlooked. She sees me in complete absence of the wolf."

"Isn't that how you want to be seen?"

"Well… yes, but it's not reality."

Sirius hummed. "Moony's changed his tune."

"I wouldn't be who I am today if I wasn't a werewolf. That wasn't as true when I was younger."

"So basically you're scorning her because she sees you as you saw yourself at that age."

"Yes. Wait, no. Wait. What?"

Sirius nodded and patted Remus' knee with the intention of seeming nothing more than brotherly. "You'll talk yourself out of this vicious loop. If you don't, she will. I expect you to have little bubblegum-coloured pups together within five years."

Remus shuddered. "I will never have children. I wasn't meant to have children."

"Oh, she'll want children."

"Yet another reason why we aren't compatible."

"You want children, too."

"But I wasn't meant to have them. They might literally be pups." He sighed. "I will destroy her innocence, and her innocence is such a substantial part of her that I don't know if I could stand…"

"You didn't destroy my innocence. It took Azkaban to do that."

"It doesn't matter. I'll destroy hers."

Sirius gasped. "Remus! You're being irrational! We ought to stop this madness! My whole world is a shambles!"

"I am _not!_" shouted Remus, and he slammed the glass down on the table in front of him and got to his feet. "There is nothing irrational about my response to this beautiful, successful young woman who should not have me as a burden or a risk! She deserves everything I can't give her. Explain to me how I'm being irrational."

"You are being irrational," Sirius explained slowly, not rising to Remus' anger in hopes of calming him down, "because you have completely forgotten what being part of a whole entails. There is no destruction involved in love. She can complete you. You can complete her. That's all she cares about." Sirius looked down at his glass and swilled its contents before draining them. "That's all we used to care about."

Remus felt his anger ebb away as he watched Sirius slumped in his armchair, shoulders hunched over his empty glass. He sat down heavily and stared in the fire. "There's so much at stake with her that wasn't at stake with us."

Sirius joined Remus in staring at the fire. "What's different?" he asked resignedly.

"You can take me in a fight. I'd tear her to pieces, and any children in the vicinity besides."

"You can, and you would, take that potion to keep you safe."

"Which was a great help the night we discovered Peter. I almost killed Harry and his friends, if you hadn't been there…"

"One fluke. Stop flogging yourself for your errors and reward yourself for your virtues. She's smart. Clumsy, but smart. She's a goof. She's just right for you."

"She's naïve."

"You like that in a mate," Sirius reminded him with a fondness in his voice he couldn't keep out.

Remus finally chanced a glance over and saw the peculiar expression on Sirius' face as he forced himself to keep staring at the fire. "Who exactly are you trying to convince me to take up with, Sirius?" he asked softly, careful not to sound accusatory.

"Dora," said Sirius at once, and it didn't sound forced. He looked over at Remus and gave a wan smile. "If I thought you'd have me again, you can bet we'd be having a different conversation." He shook his head hard and Remus was fiercely reminded of the black shaggy dog. "But she can give you the life you've always dreamed of. I have nothing to offer you."

To the surprise of both of them, Remus found his fingers intertwining with Sirius' on the arm of his chair. "Don't be so sure," he murmured without looking at Sirius, staring into the fire once more.

Sirius squeezed the hand, but did not otherwise move. "She'll make you happy. You deserve that much."

Remus stayed silent. They stared at the fire together for some time.


	4. Prompt 78: Where?

_June, 1996_

Remus stepped into Grimmauld Place. He took off his shoes. He left them on the mat. He looked at the door. He turned away from the door. He went down the stairs and into the basement kitchen.

He saw Sirius sitting at the table, reading the Prophet, in that red bathrobe and those god awful old slippers. He hummed as he read. Milk dripped off his spoon, no cereal upon it but Sirius never cared about that.

"Hello, Moony," he said brightly, grinning. "Didn't hear you come in. Everything go all right at the Ministry?"

Sirius wasn't in the kitchen. Remus was alone in the kitchen. Why wasn't Sirius in the kitchen? _Where was Sirius?_

"Good morning, Moony," said Sirius again in the same tone. He looked up from the newspaper for the first time – the second time – the first time. It was as though he hadn't spoken when Remus had seen him just a second ago. "Didn't hear you come in."

Sirius wasn't in the kitchen. _Where was Sirius?_

Remus decided it was time to look for him someplace else.

He walked back up the staircase and was vaguely aware that his neck hurt. He realized his shoulders were hunched and tense. He tried to relax them. He found he couldn't. He had to find Sirius.

_Where was Sirius?_

He went upstairs to Sirius' room and knocked softly on the door. It opened under his touch. Sirius had forgotten to close it on his haste to get out the door. Remus could see him now, pulling on a pair of shorts with careful and graceful movement. He turned away from the closet with a shirt in his hands and started at the sight of Remus. "Moony!" he began, then gave a knowing smile. "Shouldn't sneak up on a bloke. Not that you saw anything you haven't seen before, but –"

The room was empty and cold and the covers on his bed were rumpled. A window open. Curtains floating in the breeze. Where was Sirius? Remus had seen him just a second ago.

He walked toward the window and stuck his head outside it. The air was fresh. It looked like rain. He came back in and realized he was kneeling on Sirius' bed. He jumped off with horror and felt inexplicably angry with himself, like he had just committed blasphemy, like he was damned forever, but ah, wasn't it a bit late for that?

He left Sirius' room and shut the door carefully behind him. He went up to see Buckbeak. Remus saw Sirius feeding the Hippogriff, humming happily, and Sirius wasn't there.

_Where was Sirius? _He had to be somewhere.

Remus swallowed and walked back downstairs. He stepped into the drawing room. There were two chairs in front of the fire. The curtain flapped at the open window. Remus was drawn to it, and stuck his head out again, feeling the first drops of a cool summer rain on his face. He stood there for a long time, veil – curtains, that is, curtains – flapping behind him. He glanced behind him and suddenly saw Sirius sitting in one of the armchairs, staring at the fireplace in which there was no fire, simply staring, eyes blank, hands tight on the arms of the chair, and he was thinking about Azkaban, which meant he was thinking about very little at all, and Remus had to save him from that. He sat down opposite Sirius and offered a smile.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," he said quietly.

Sirius jolted out of his reverie and looked at Remus. He was looked younger; there were fewer lines in his face and his teeth weren't as yellow and his hair was lighter, fluffier, and Remus felt the insane desire to run his fingers through it. "Oh, hello, Remus," Sirius said quietly. "Fire's quite nice, isn't it?"

Remus stared sadly. "I loved you, you know."

Sirius' eyes were sad. He flickered – thirty-six years old, seventeen years old, twenty-one years old, then somewhere in the middle again. "I know."

"Don't lie. Don't you lie. Don't you fucking lie to me." Now Remus gripped the chair and his voice shook and he felt such anger at Sirius for leaving him, his hair stood on end, a growl threatened to escape from his throat, he was almost the wolf and Sirius didn't care. Sirius only stared with sad, sad eyes.

"I'm not lying," Sirius said. He was thirty-six again. "I know. I know you loved me, because I loved you and I watched you and you loved me."

"No," he said. "I never told you. I haven't told you for years, not since…" and Sirius was twenty-one, Remus' favourite Sirius and the one he hated for thirteen years for making him love him. "How could you know?" he asked desperately.

"Remus, think of who you're talking to," he said, smile sad enough to match his eyes. "It's me. It's just me. I know every inch of you, so don't."

A whine escaped his throat: involuntarily, desperately. "Why are you calling me Remus? Why won't you call me Moony?"

"I play with Moony. I talk with Remus." Sirius reached out and grasped Remus' hand; Remus' hand convulsed against air and tears stung at his eyes. "We loved each other and that was all. We both knew I couldn't make you happy, not after Azkaban. We tried and we failed. But we loved each other. We can't love each other now."

"Don't say that," he whispered, tears falling in earnest, a lump in his throat stopping sound. "I love you now."

Sirius flickered, not in age this time, but in corporeality. He came back with that sad smile, mixed in with a grimace. "You can't love a man who's not there."

Remus' breath hitched against his will. "Where are you, Sirius?"

Sirius smiled, more warmly this time, and the muscles in his hand made a squeezing gesture against Remus' but he felt nothing but the breeze coming in through the window. "I'm simply not here."

"But where _are_ you?"

"I loved you, and I knew. Don't ever forget." Sirius kept smiling and stayed motionless as he flickered once, twice, over again, hand slipping from Remus' grip, going back in time, thirty-six to twenty-one to seventeen to fifteen… "I loved you, Remus."

"Sirius, no! Sirius! _Sirius!_"

And then he was gone.

_Where was_ –

The truth hit Remus like a spell to the chest. He ached. He placed a hand over his heart and rubbed to try to make the ache go away.

"_I'm simply not here._"

The ache wasn't leaving.

"_I loved you, and I knew._"

He rubbed harder.

"_I loved you, Remus._"

Unsteady hands launched him from the chair. His feet moved and his heart ached, it _ached_, _please _stop _aching_…

He was staring into Sirius' room again. The covers were still thrown carelessly aside. Knee marks wrinkled the sheets where Remus had poked his head out the window, looking for Sirius through the curtains. Through the veil.

He realized his face was getting wet with warm drops and cold. He was crying into the rain, looking for Sirius. He climbed back inside and looked at the bed beneath him. He'd mussed up the bed again – should it be, be left alone? If Sirius wanted it that way, then that's how it should have stayed. How could Remus have been so foolish?

He grasped onto the headboard for support, no longer sure of his own sturdiness, and he wept. He wept for all the times he could have told him but didn't. He wept for all the times he wanted to kiss him but didn't. He wept for all the things he thought of to save him, both after the fact and at the time… but didn't.

His face was on Sirius' pillow, and it smelled of him. Remus clung onto it like it was the only thing keeping him alive and lay on Sirius' bed, wishing there was another body to warm him up as he had wished so often when he was alive but _didn't ever pursue_, a body to make this ache go away, a gorgeous, muscular body that he fit into just right like they were pieces of a bloody puzzle to tell him he was loved and to whom he could tell the same.

But no matter how many times he begged the pillow through his tears and mourning to tell him where Sirius was, there was no body.

There would never be a body.


	5. Prompt 52: Fire

**A/N:** I actually wrote this one before I wrote "Where?" but I had reservations about posting it for a few reasons. I revised it a bit so I could maintain the T rating, and it does seem a bit silly that such an absurd word gets Sirius all randy. But, there we are. He's sort of an absurd guy, after all.

Not my favourite, but hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

_April, 1978_

Sirius loved it when Remus used complicated words.

Sirius loved it when Remus talked in general, really. It was when he was particularly articulate with complicated words that Sirius had trouble with restraining himself from pressing him against the wall and extracting sounds from Remus' throat with his tongue. However, after much discussion, they decided that keeping their relationship quiet was not only prudent, but also added quite an alluring element to their interaction, so it would be against their agreement for Sirius to give any indication that Remus' tongue could tip him precariously close to the edge even when not circling certain body parts.

When Remus started being articulate, Sirius quietly took him to a private place and shagged the English right out of him. He never said what it was that drove him so mad. That would ruin the spontaneity of it.

Outwardly, Sirius made fun of the werewolf for talking like a pompous prat all the time. It didn't take very long for Remus to figure out what the making fun really meant, especially since, after some particularly long-winded phrases, Sirius tended to jump Remus at the first possible opportunity.

Now Remus played his little game.

"I cannot articulate how imbecilic your actions strike me as," he said one day at breakfast when Sirius and James were having a sword fight with butter knives to see who would eat the last pancake.

Sirius stopped abruptly and turned to look at Remus. James got in a shot while he was looking the other way and poked him in the temple with his knife. "Ow!" Sirius said, and returned to the sword fight with renewed vigor. "Moony, you wouldn't understand," he continued. "This is a matter of dire consequences."

"I'm quite certain of it," Remus responded, smiling as Peter grabbed the last pancake for himself. "For instance, if the two of you don't stop now, McGonagall will slaughter you and place your heads on stakes in the middle of the Quidditch pitch."

"Worth it," James grunted as Sirius swiped him across the front of his robes in what struck Remus as a particularly sexy motion. "I'll be damned if he's going to get my pancake."

"Mmm," hummed Remus, focusing on his breakfast instead of Sirius' grace. "Oh, hello, Lily."

James stopped immediately and quickly put the knife down on the table before looking innocently around for his girlfriend. She was nowhere to be found. Sirius burst into laughter. "Oh, Prongs. You're so whipped."

"Dirty trick," James muttered as he sat down.

"Ah, now," Sirius sympathized. "Don't get mopey. Here, you can have the last pancake, how's that?"

"Oh," said Peter through a mouthful of pancake. "Is that what the two of you were fighting over?"

Sirius gaped as he sat down heavily beside James. "Wormtail! You ate our pancake?"

James wailed dramatically and tried to force his grin out of sight. "No Lily, and now no pancake? Why, world, why?"

"It's just a pancake," Peter offered guiltily, shrugging. "You could have a waffle instead. It's got squares. Squares are fun."

"Actually, Wormtail, I see their side of the argument," Remus stated, a sly grin tugging at his cheeks. "Pancakes are moist in a way that waffles aren't. There are some days when a pancake simply seems more -" he paused to lick his lips, making sure he pronounced each syllable with excessive articulation - "_tantilizing._"

There was an abrupt clang as Sirius fumbled his fork. He glanced up at Remus momentarily before looking at the ceiling instead. "Moony, stop using such complicated words," he commented lightly. He had picked up his fork and was waving it around casually, pointedly avoiding Remus' gaze. "Articulate, imbecilic, tantilizing -" Sirius' voice broke on the last syllable. He cleared his throat lightly. "It's too early for this nonsense."

"But Padfoot, this is just the way I talk," he replied innocently, enunciating his words in a way he knew would be agonizing for Sirius. "I can't help it if you're hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobic..."

Sirius' cutlery clattered onto his plate more dramatically this time. It was now as though some magnetic force was fixing Sirius' eyes on Remus'. "Remus. Shut. Up."

Remus grinned a mischievous grin and looked him straight in the eye. They continued to stare at each other, Sirius' grey eyes ignited with fire, Remus' amber-flecked eyes daring Sirius to leap across the table and ravage him then and there.

"Good Lord, Padfoot, nothing about the way Moony talks should make you this cranky," James commented from beside him, interpreting Sirius' steely gaze as one of anger.

"What does that word even mean?" Peter asked, gaze flitting between the three of them.

"Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia," Remus said again, desire twinging deep in his abdomen as he watched Sirius' lip curl and muscles contract, "is a fear of big words."

"Sort of self-defeating, isn't it?" Peter commented, and shoveled some more food into his mouth while still watching his friends' expressions with a look of confusion.

"In a way." Remus grinned and finally broke eye contact with Sirius as he looked at James. "Anyway, we ought to be getting to Charms."

"Yes we ought," echoed James, rising from the table with enthusiasm at the thought of seeing Lily. James chatted with Peter while Sirius and Remus hung back, Remus smiling smugly, Sirius standing up straight and looking straight ahead.

"Oh, look, it's Snivelly," James said as he spotted Snape striding ahead of them. "Let's hope he doesn't see us, I really don't want to deal with him today. Don't suppose you grabbed the Cloak out of my trunk this morning, eh, Pads?"

There was silence. James turned around and saw that Sirius and Remus were no longer walking behind him. "Padfoot?" James asked inquiringly, looking down the corridor they'd just passed. "Sirius? Lupin?" He threw his arms in the air. "Where'd they go?" he asked Peter.

Peter shrugged. "They were there a second ago. I heard footsteps, anyway. Then kind of a scuffle, and -"

"Huh," James interjected as he peered around, brow furrowed. "Well, they'd better hurry up, whatever they're doing, or they'll be late for Charms. And we do know how much Moony hates missing class."

Moony, however, was not thinking about class at that moment. He was thinking about the hands administering overwhelming pleasure to his body, for Sirius had yanked him into a broom closet and was expressing his feelings about Remus' little game.

"You're a ruddy good actor, you know that?" he gasped as he broke away from Remus, pressing him firmly against the wall and tearing the werewolf's robes in his eagerness to get them off.

"I have always had ambitions to become a _thespian_," Remus admitted, finishing the sentence in a low baritone. Sirius gave a growl and grabbed him by the necktie in order to kiss him with particular fierceness.

"Next time you pull this articulate nonsense," he breathed in Remus' ear, "I may not be able to restrain myself. I may simply have to shag your brains out in the middle of the Great Hall with all our friends and all the teachers watching."

It was Remus' turn to growl as he grabbed Sirius' hips and pinned him against the wall instead. "I count on it."

But, he was forced to confess, having Sirius shag his brains out in the middle of the Great Hall would sort of defeat the purpose of the game - after all, the idea was to make it as difficult as possible for Sirius to keep their affair a secret - and so he kept his usage of complicated words to a minimum: he remained just articulate enough to put fire in Sirius' eyes, but not enough to give them away. The fire in Sirius' eyes, caused by a combination of passion and restraint, drove Remus quite as mad as Remus' tongue drove Sirius. It was - dare he say it - most _tantalizing_.


	6. Prompt 80: Why?

**A/N:** There are lyrics in here. I rarely if ever do that with fics (except, obviously, I do so occasionally). In this case, I've been listening to the album "Fear of a Blank Planet" by Porcupine Tree and I have a fic in mind for three of the songs. This is the fic for "Way Out of Here". The lyrics are included in italics, not to be confused with memories, which are also in italics.

* * *

_November, 1981_

"Albus, it can't be true," Remus announced cheerfully as he burst into headquarters, bag slung over his shoulder. Dumbledore was sitting in front of the fireplace in the sitting room and did not turn to look at him. "The wolves are scarpering, they said the Dark Lord's defeated but won't tell how… have you finally done it?" He approached the chair eagerly.

It was Dumbledore's eyes that made him stop dead.

"Ah, Remus," he whispered, a single tear rolling down his cheeks. A man as old and wise as Dumbledore got only this affected when a terrible tragedy had occurred, Remus knew. Dumbledore sat slumped in a chair in front of the fire; he looked truly defeated. His eyes were red, the brandy in front of him a beautiful amber.

Remus dropped his bag on the floor, though he did not realize it. "What? What's happened?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and shook his head very slowly, from side to side. "James and Lily are dead."

A cold hand closed around Remus' throat, then extended down to his heart. He staggered backwards and sat down hard in a chair conveniently placed behind him. His hand gripped at the wood until his bloodless knuckles began to ache. "Are you sure?" he asked at long last, breathless, thoughtless.

"I am afraid there is no doubt," Dumbledore said in a stronger voice. He stared through his glass into the fire. "If you Apparate to Godric's Hollow and find the remains of their home, you will see what I mean."

"Their…" Remus' heart skipped a beat, and a wave of nausea nearly overtook him. "Their home? But…"

"Voldemort himself killed them." Albus picked up the glass in front of him and swilled the liquid, giving no indication that he knew he had just interrupted. He did not look at Remus. "At their home." He took a drink. "It was not a chance encounter. He had full knowledge of where he was going ahead of time."

There was no need for Dumbledore to spell it out any further.

Remus had gone looking for him, even though Dumbledore and countless others he encountered told him that he had already gone away to Azkaban. It was this way that Remus found out that Peter, too, was dead, along with fourteen Muggles.

All at the hands of Sirius Black.

Remus went looking for Sirius for a full twenty-four hours before he felt the pull of exhaustion finally penetrate his unfeeling shell. He stumbled back into headquarters and felt the strange sensation of relief when he found no one there. There were countless glasses in the kitchen, clustered on the table and lining the countertops, which suggested to Remus that there had been some kind of wake for the Potters, for Peter.

Remus conjured himself a glass of brandy and sat heavily down at the table, sticky with firewhisky and tears. He stared at the wall as he drank.

The distance Remus had felt with Sirius for months beforehand – was that indicative? They had broken up in August because of it. Things had been awkward between them since then, but cordial. Sirius had still been firmly Sirius, joking with James and flirting with Lily. He asked after Harry and gave Peter one-armed hugs in abundance.

All an act.

Sirius had joked politely with Remus, too. But then, Remus realized, draining his first tumbler, there had been that dark look when the joking was done, the one that Remus had begun to see a little over a year ago. The manifestation of that look had been the beginning of their distancing. After the awkward jokes, James and Lily had exchanged not-so-subtle expressions with one another. Remus had wondered at the time if they knew about the break-up. They must have, he reasoned. He just wished they'd known _why_. He wished he'd known why, too.

Sirius' head floated tauntingly in Remus' head. He was possessed with memories he didn't want anymore. Sirius laughing. Sirius kissing him. Sirius pressed up against him on hot summer nights –

A deafening shatter broke Remus out of his reverie. He looked up and realized he had thrown his glass against the opposite wall. He stared at the broken glass unblinkingly. Time kept passing. Finally he rose from his chair and walked unsteadily over to the mess.

"_Reparo_."

His wand was pointed at the broken glass, but nothing happened.

"_Reparo!_"

The wand twitched feebly. The glass remained broken.

Remus stared at it for a moment as though tempting it nonverbally to clean itself up, then shrugged. He stumbled over to the closet, grabbed a broom and dustpan, and swept up the mess himself. The glass made a beautiful tinkling sound as it tumbled into the garbage can. He thought vaguely that glass in the garbage wasn't terribly safe, but he couldn't magic it out and he wasn't about to reach in there, so there it would have to stay.

He was standing now and he didn't feel like sitting anymore. His friends were gone and his lover was evil. He picked up a few glasses from the table and trudged toward the sink. He thought he would do some dishes. That always relaxed him.

"_You have a wand, Remus."_

"_Thank you, Sirius, I am aware." Remus had kept scrubbing at the sink. "I like washing them by hand. It gives me a chance to think."_

"_You're thinking all the time!"_

"_Yes, but it's different with dishes."_

_Sirius had snorted. "You're barking."_

"_No, I'm howling. You're barking."_

_Sirius' grin had been broad. "Very clever, Moony!" He'd thrown the magazine aside and gotten up from the chair with the sort of grace Remus could never muster. Remus had found he couldn't keep his eyes off Sirius as he'd sauntered over and snaked a hand around Remus' waist. Then Sirius had been standing between Remus and the sink, his hips pressing into Remus' and his breath tickling Remus' lips. "I still think you could be doing something more productive with your time."_

"_Is that so."_

"_It is." Sirius leaned forward and kissed Remus' nose. "Thinking never got you anywhere, did it?"_

_Remus had hummed. "It got me here."_

"_Well then, I guess it isn't all bad." Then Sirius' lips had been on Remus', soft and full and –_

Smash.

Remus' lip was curling. The four glasses he had been holding lay shattered at his feet. He had thrown them down. He had not done it on purpose. He stared at the glass only for a moment before reaching beside him and grabbing two more glasses. He threw them at the floor. They shattered, too.

Something in Remus broke and he tore through the kitchen, grabbing every glass on every surface, throwing them across the room down to the floor, into the corridor, everywhere he could possibly get them, and they shattered, each and every one. As he smashed he felt his heart shatter too, and he screamed as it happened. He screamed again and again and he upturned the table and when he came to himself he was standing in the middle of a field of diamonds, chest heaving, feet bleeding, sobs racking his shoulders because his lover had killed his best friends and he had been too fucking blind with love to stop it.

-

_and i'll try to forget you_

_and i know that i will_

_in a thousand years_

_or maybe a week_

-

"You should be out celebrating, you know," Arthur told him softly as he magically swept up the glass. Remus was seated in an armchair in the sitting room, feet wrapped in toilet paper because he couldn't be rutting bothered with doing anything more, the last unbroken glass a bottomless pit of brandy. "He's gone. The terror is finished."

"The terror is finished?" he asked Arthur thickly. "I'm bloody happy for you and yours, Arthur, if you can celebrate this. In case you haven't noticed, I've lost everything I had." He looked over and saw the picture of the four of them, Remus and James and Peter and Sirius, on the wall near the door of the sitting room. His eyes managed to focus on Sirius with much difficulty. He was young and laughing and beautiful and Remus ached with renewed longing. He kicked the table in front of him and revelled in the pain that shot through his foot. He looked into his glass and forgot Arthur was there. "I've lost everything I ever loved."

-

_burn all your pictures_

_cut out your face_

-

Remus had staggered up well after dark and tried to grab the picture off the wall. He pulled and tugged and wept and pounded the wall but it would not give. It took him until the sun started to peek through the windows and Sirius' dark eyes began to penetrate his own to realize that someone – probably Sirius – had put a permanent sticking charm on it.

He wondered dimly if Sirius did it expressly for the purpose of torturing him.

Then he took out his wand and blew out the wall.

-

_and i'll try to forget even your name_

_and the way that you look_

_when you're sleeping_

_dreaming of this_

-

When Remus found sleep, it was fitful. Sirius floated in his head. He seemed to dream in memories, except in some of them, Sirius was clearly evil, clearly plotting to kill his friends, and Remus tried to stop him but he killed them all anyway. And in all of them, he turned to kill Remus, but couldn't. Something in the way Remus looked at him made Sirius stop and let himself be dragged off by Dumbledore and Arthur to Azkaban.

Other dreams were perfect memories. They were perfect. They were _lying in bed on a Sunday morning, Sirius having come back from a mission the night before and Remus having come back from another stint with the wolves. They'd survived the debriefing meeting and then dissolved into a tangle of limbs and lips and groans as soon as they could politely excuse themselves. Then they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, giggling about life and love and all its wonders._

_Now Sirius' hair was matted to his face; sweat that hadn't had a chance to dry between being fresh from the fight and fresh from the shag that Remus had been rather persistent about. He had one arm splayed over the head of the bed, his head resting upon it, the other arm still hanging lazily over Remus' hip. His mouth was open and his eyes were closed. The way the sunlight crept through the window meant that the layer of his hair not plastered to his head glowed in the morning. Remus reached out and ran the back of his index finger along Sirius' hair, his cheek, his jaw, his lips. Then Remus had kissed him and Sirius was kissing him back, not quite awake, but the arm glided over his hip and into the small of his back to bring him closer._

_He was perfect. They were perfect. They were_ –

"Why, why," Remus said aloud, and was surprised to find himself awake. He opened his eyes and stared out at the room over his knees, tears falling over the bridge of his nose and onto the sheets below. He wondered why Sirius had lied about everything. He wondered why Sirius had made him believe he loved him, why Sirius had pretended to love all of them while he quietly plotted their demise. He wondered why Sirius hadn't killed him too. Maybe he knew this would be worse.

Remus stayed in that position for a long time, asking the same questions.

No one offered him an answer.


End file.
